


Focus

by snoqualmie



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, its tender though, tooru gags on things and cries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 10:07:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9603287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snoqualmie/pseuds/snoqualmie
Summary: “You’re okay,” Iwaizumi pants. “I’ve got you.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is literally all for kot bc i love them dearly and they drew me a Kyoutani the other day that literally changed my fucking life. kot if ur reading this im lov u??

There's a burn in Iwaizumi’s thighs that warns him against the way he's holding himself, but he's got Tooru pinned into the mattress underneath him for the first time in weeks, so nothing else really matters. And Iwaizumi’s exhausted. He’d had practice, a four hour train ride to Tooru’s place, _and_ he’d skipped a real dinner because Tooru had pulled open the door to his apartment and dragged him straight to the bedroom, which is fine. It's fine. It's good, actually, because Tooru had looked _amazing_ the first time he came, clenched tight around Iwaizumi’s curled fingers, his legs spread, eyelids heavy, rocking down onto Iwaizumi’s fingers and panting, “More, Iwa-chan. More.”

And Iwaizumi’s giving him more, now that there's a mess of come on Tooru’s stomach, smeared from Iwaizumi fumbling, just to touch, to see that twitch in the muscles of Tooru’s stomach that means he’s teetering on the edge of telling Iwazumi to slow down, too much, too sensitive.

“Tooru,” Iwaizumi says firmly, sliding his hands up to the back of Tooru’s knees and pushing them upwards so he can push himself in deeper. He’ll probably complain about it later, voice pitched too high, _“Iwa-chan is too pushy! I don't bend like that, you know.”_

He brings a free hand up and cups Tooru’s jaw, pushing his thumb into his mouth and pressing down on his tongue. Tooru’s eyes flutter shut and his breath huffs out against Iwaizumi’s hand. He can see the back of Tooru’s throat, the flats of his teeth. His tongue is warm and soft under Iwaizumi’s thumb and he pushes down on it, suppressing a shudder when Tooru’s throat works around a swallow. Tooru huffs another little breath and his eyes wander over Iwaizumi’s face, unfocused. Spit is pooling in Tooru’s mouth and Iwaizumi hates that his instinct is to press fingers into it, press fingers under his tongue. 

“Fuck,” Iwaizumi pants. ‘You’re so pretty.”

It’s distracting, seeing Tooru’s mouth all wet and open like that, and Iwaizumi pulls his hand away so that he can drop Tooru’s legs and press himself between them, pressing closer. It disrupts their rhythm and Tooru whines, letting his legs fall open wide. Iwaizumi hooks a finger into Tooru’s cheek and pulls it back so he can see Tooru’s teeth while he fucks him, slow and deep, and that’s a little bit better.

Tooru looks unbelievably smug, mouth hanging open, holding his legs up while Iwaizumi slides his fingers along his molars and pulls at the velvety inside of his cheek. And that smug look pisses Iwaizumi off, so then he’s pushing his fingers to the back of Tooru’s throat letting him gag on them. Tooru tips his head to the side and lets the spit that’s been puddling in his mouth dribble over Iwaizumi’s fingers. When Iwaizumi looks back up at his eyes, they’re narrowed in amusement and Iwaizumi can practically hear his voice teasing, “Pervy Iwa-chan!”

“You’re so pretty,” Iwaizumi says again as he pulls his fingers out of Tooru’s mouth and wraps them around his hips. “I missed you so much. I couldn’t stop thinking about this.”

He punctuates each word with a snap of his hips and the stupid, smug look on Tooru’s face drops, eyes going wide.

Tooru gasps, scrabbling at Iwaizumi’s sides with blunt nails that can't find purchase.

Iwaizumi leans back from where they're plastered together and guides Tooru’s legs so they're crossed, one ankle hooked over the other and then he hikes Tooru up, pressing into him and groaning when Tooru jerks and nods fast against the pillow his head is resting on.

“Right there?” Iwaizumi asks, pulling back slowly watching the way Tooru’s shoulders curl in and the way his lower lip trembles like he's _this close_ to crying. He asks, yeah, but he already knows. He pushes Tooru’s knees up, folds him in until his breath is wheezing out and Iwaizumi’s pretty sure he couldn't be any deeper inside of him even if he wanted to be. And he does want to.

“Right there, huh?” Iwaizumi asks again, pulling back and snapping his hips forward. He feels terribly smug at the way Tooru whines, keening and high, straight from the back of his throat. His eyes are still trained on the ceiling and Iwaizumi’s stomach flips when the first fat tear streaks down the side of his face. He looks like he’s not even _there_ , eyes wide and unblinking and wet.

“Hey,” Iwaizumi says firmly. “Look at me.”

His breath hitches, not in a moan but in a genuine struggle for air as more tears track down his face, right into the hair at his temples. Tooru’s eyes finally come back to Iwaizumi, pupils blown, and he nods again.

“I've got you,” Iwaizumi says. “Okay?”

“Don't stop,” Tooru chokes.

And that’s the turning point, in hindsight, because Tooru’s voice wavers like Iwaizumi’s giving it to him better than anybody ever has, because Tooru whimpers again, tight and warm around Iwaizumi’s cock like he was _made_ to take it. And it's so fucking amazing. He looks so fucking gorgeous. Iwaizumi settles Tooru’s legs on his shoulder, leaning over him heavy and hard and fucking into him like he’s been thinking about for the last four and a half weeks.

“Fuck,” Iwaizumi groans. “You feel so good.”

Every noise coming out of his mouth is choked and desperate, his hands are fisted in the sheets, shoulders curling in, tight and tense. Iwaizumi can't stop looking at him; he doesn’t ever want to look away. Tooru’s head lolls, mouth open wide and wet, and Iwaizumi watches him gasp for breath, tipping his head to watch Tooru’s face while he squirms.

Iwaizumi wants to say more, say everything, but Tooru is hot and tight, pulling him down and letting him breathe against the sticky skin of the side of his neck and rocking his hips up like he wants even more. He slides his hand underneath Tooru, pulling his back into an arch and groaning at the way his fingers bow with the curve of Tooru’s spine.

Every stuttering jerk of Iwaizumi’s hips forces a whimper out of Tooru, short and soft and Iwaizumi’s not one to boast but the way Tooru is shuddering all the way down to his toes makes Iwaizumi feel like he's on top of the world. Tooru’s starting to tense, gasping out what Iwaizumi thinks might be his name.

“I’m gonna—Iwa-ch—,” Tooru cuts himself off with a choked sob as his back bows even further and he comes hard enough that the way he clenches around Iwaizumi is nearly painful.

“You’re okay,” Iwaizumi pants. “I’ve got you.”

Tooru gropes at Iwaizumi’s arms with shaking hands, pulling him close and rasping, “Don't stop, please. Keep going.”

His nails are digging into Iwaizumi’s arms and he’s squirming like he wants to pull away from everything but he doesn’t, he just whimpers squeezes his eyes shut while Iwaizumi fucks him through it. There are tears snaking down his cheeks, he’s flushed blotchy and red and he yanks Iwaizumi down with a croaky whisper of his name and whines, “Please, Hajime. You can—please, just. Come inside me.”

Iwaizumi never stood a chance, really, and when he comes his vision goes fuzzy at the edges and he's clutching a fistful of the sheets near Tooru’s head, groaning into the sweaty hair at his temple. Tooru makes a loud, happy noise and wraps his shaky legs around Iwaizumi’s waist.

If Iwaizumi caves and slumps into the warmth of Tooru’s body he’ll never get up and then there’ll be a nasty mess to clean up. There already will be, really. So he pulls out as slow as possible, resting his forehead on Tooru’s shoulder and shuddering when Tooru tries to keep him close, and rolls of to the side. They both take more than a few deep breaths and then Iwaizumi kicks feebly at Tooru’s leg, “We gotta clean up.”

“Five minutes,” Tooru murmurs. “Can’t feel my legs. Come cuddle me.”

“You’re covered in jizz,” Iwaizumi mumbles, rolling onto his side and nodding pointedly to Tooru’s stomach. “And still crying.”

Iwaizumi reaches out and brushes his fingers across Tooru’s wet cheek.

“Are you broken?” Iwaizumi whispers.

“It wasn’t _that_ good,” Tooru retorts, peeking an eye open and narrowing it menacingly.

“You’re actually crying,” Iwaizumi says, running his thumb over the hollow below Tooru’s eye.

“I thought about something sad!” Tooru sniffs and turns his head to the other side.

“You’re such a brat,” Iwaizumi says, hefting himself up and looming over Tooru.

Tooru grins up at him and cups the side of his face, “You love me, though. That’s why you came all the way to my University just to spend the weekend with me.”

Iwaizumi groans and rolls his eyes, “Don’t make it sound so gay.”

“It’s pretty gay.”

“It’s pretty gay,” Iwaizumi mimics.

“Pretty sure I had an out-of-body experience when you folded my legs up like that,” Tooru mumbles, stretching his arms out and slumping further into the bed. “Love you.”

Tooru is well-fucked and lazy-boned and Iwaizumi is pretty sure he’s never seen anything as pleasing. He’s long and pale and drowsy and Iwaizumi knows that in about five minutes he’s going to be wobbling to the bathroom and grumbling that they should’ve used a condom, that he feels _“icky and empty.”_

“I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> SHOUTOUT TO IZZY FOR KICKING MY ASS WHEN I WAS TOO PUSSY TO WRITE THE NUTTING PART LOL


End file.
